


The Resident ManDadlorian

by Wixiany



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crack Fic, Din is a panicked first time parent, Domestic, M/M, ManDadlorian, Paz is good with foundlings, Slow Burn, dont take this fic seriously, i dont know what im doing, i said what i said, i was bored, no beta we die like men, no real plot, oc mandalorians cause Paz needs friends too, probably inaccurate Mando'a but i tried, rating for swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wixiany/pseuds/Wixiany
Summary: Paz Vizsla never imagined himself doing many things. Running an online forum for desperate parents in need of answers was definitely one of those things.There is also that one annoying anonymous parent that keeps posting ridiculous questions into the forum and Paz's temper really goes only so far.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Comments: 30
Kudos: 276





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I really just sat down and started writing the first thing that came to mind because I felt like writing something. My knowledge of the Mandalorians and overall Star Wars universe is very shallow, not gonna lie. Sorry if I get things too wrong, but like, don't take this fic too seriously. The characters might be a little OOC, sorry for that too. Oop. Enjoy? 
> 
> Mando'a translation:  
> di'kut = idiot  
> vode = brothers

There was a side to the huge Mandalorian that often came as a surprise to people outside of their covert. No one really expected the Heavy Infantry warrior that carried a massive weapon on his back to have a soft side. But Paz was nothing if not perfectly attuned to the old way of Mandalore. All he did, day in and day out, was to secure the future of the covert’s foundlings. They were the most important thing to him and his fellow Mandalorians. 

The thing was, Paz was a battle-hardened man, like most of the Mandalorians, brash and not one to speak with kind consideration, but all that went out of the window as soon as the foundlings were in the picture. 

Paz was one of the most competent when it came to handling the young ones. No amount of fights and blood could smother that fatherly nature inside him.

And as things had been, with the Covert hidden on Nevarro, with all of the Mandalorians huddled in the tight spaces of the underground, coming out one at a time, Paz had found himself with a lot of free time on his hands. 

It had been making him go crazy, to the point he had to force himself to stop cleaning his weapons every day. His weapons barely saw the light of the day, they were spotless. There was really no need to clean them, just one utterly bored Mandalorian.

Paz wasn’t sure if it was the slipping sanity or the boredom that did it, but one day, with the Holonet opened on his datapad and nothing exactly entertaining to do with it, but also no one in the entire Covert requiring his help, he scrolled down and down, link upon link, until he stumbled upon a rather interesting forum.

It was just a simple question at first, a worried mother somewhere who knew where in the vastness of galaxies, looking for an answer over something related to her child. 

Now, Paz wasn’t a doctor, nanny, or anything even remotely like that. He was a warrior, goddammit. But he knew the answer, it was a plainly stupid question. He couldn’t believe a mother didn’t know something as basic as that. The years taking care of foundlings taught him many things. 

And so he answered. 

That was only the beginning. 

Before he knew it, Paz was answering a question after a question and had steadily became a well-known name on the forum for the parents. Of course, he wasn’t stupid, he never used his real name nor revealed anything about being Mandalorian, his age, nothing. Half the forum could think he was a woman, but he didn’t care at all. 

Nothing could link him or the Covert to the forum. He wasn’t stupid. He employed great many security measures to make sure nobody would track the Covert through this. Not that he would give them any idea that he was a Mandalorian hiding in a covert in the first place.

He just answered the questions he knew the answers to. It was merely a chance he knew most of the answers. And if there was something more concerning that led him to subtly interrogate the Covert’s medic and hound for possible explanations to mysterious questions he wouldn’t tell the medic about, well, nobody needed to know that. 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise when the forum’s admin contacted him and offered him more privileges on the forum by making him a co-admin.

Paz hadn’t been sure what that would have entailed, but overall, things didn’t change much. He had expressed his concerns to the actual admin, told them he was merely good at answering questions and not interested in much else. Just sharing what he knew. The admin had assured him that was fine. And that was that. 

The forum was what filled his free time. When he wasn’t doing an outside mission or helping in the Covert with whatever he could, the Mandalorians were hardly lazy people, he answered questions. 

It wasn’t the kind of life he had wanted for himself or his fellow Mandalorians, but it was the life he got used to. It could have been worse, Paz had to keep reminding himself that when his irritation grew. They still had the foundlings, they still had a place to hide. That had to mean something. 

But then Din fucking Djarin showed up with his Imperial beskar and all went to shit from then on. 

Paz had lost it as soon as he saw the Imperial insignia. He had snapped. Tried to do something really stupid. He wasn’t exactly proud of that. Grabbing another’s helmet like that, yeah, Paz really tried something really, really stupid. 

In retrospect, he was glad the Armorer was there to defuse the situation, but one glance at the Imperial insignia and he saw red, Paz couldn’t help it. Later, when he had learned of what Djarin did, he considered apologizing. He knew he should, but he wasn’t the kind of a man to throw his pride away and say sorry. 

He didn’t really get a chance to. Paz hoped the fact that he showed up, along with the others, to help the _di'kut_ escape with the child was enough. It had to be. At that time, Paz was certain he wouldn’t get to see Djarin for a long time. If the Mandalorian knew what was good for him, and the child, he would get his shit together and escape to some distant planet nobody had ever heard of. 

Maybe now Djarin would get to experience the kind of life they all led, hidden in the Covert, not coming out much. But that wasn’t really Djarin’s style so maybe not. As long as he kept the child safe. 

Paz wondered if Djarin had realized the implications of what he had done. That child was now his foundling, his to take care of. 

He didn’t like the other Mandalorian much, but Paz could admit how impressive his skills were. In a battle, Djarin was quick, resourceful, he really earned himself his reputation, but Paz wasn’t sure how any of that would help him raise the child. He would keep it safe, of that Paz had no doubt, but there was a lot more to raising a foundling. 

Well, even dumber people became parents and managed to keep their kids alive, Paz cringed despite himself, remembering some of the questions people on the forum had. If people like that managed it, Djarin could probably do it too. He was a smart guy.

They all knew the dangers of revealing the Covert to the world. It didn’t take long for the Imps to get a whiff of it and come, barrels raised. They didn’t come to ask questions, they started shooting right away.

But the Mandalorians weren’t stupid. The discovery of the Covert was always a possibility, as much as they all disliked the idea of that happening. So of course, they had plans to counter it, plans to save the most they could. 

They went to help out Djarin, that was the Way, but some stayed behind to get the foundlings to the safety of their hidden ships and relocate them immediately. And when the Imps came after them, they fought. 

Many Mandalorians fell that day, but not all of them. It was a close call, even for Paz himself. With the last Imp down, they picked each other up and flew after their foundlings, to where their back up Covert’s hiding place was located. 

Only the armorer stayed behind to take care of their fallen _vode_. Many wanted to stay and aid her but she sent them all away, saying that ensuring their safety was the priority. Nobody dared talk back to her. Nobody could sway her resolve. 

Paz wasn’t any different. He wanted to do more, even if his ribs were broken and screaming and it was getting kind of hard to breathe, but he still knew he could do more. Even an injured Mandalorian was a force to be reckoned with. But somebody had to go and rejoin the foundlings. Somebody had to take care of the foundlings. Foundlings were their future. That was the Way. And so Paz accepted and left with the other survivors. 

The new hiding spot was rather similar. A rather dull and unimportant planet, not much greenery around. The Covert now lived in an abandoned mining facility. It was more spacious than the sewers, but also posed more dangers. They would have to rebuild, make it safer for the younger foundlings. But they could make it work with time. The important thing was that they were safe there and nobody knew of them.

They got used to their new life on this planet, they mourned their fallen friends, they healed and then they went on living like they did before. 

Paz would have nearly forgotten about the forum altogether with all that was going on, until their medic threatened to tie him to his bed so that he would finally rest and let his ribs heal properly. Paz had just grumbled, hating that he was just resting while the others were working on building their new life there. But his ribs did hurt and so he finally admitted defeat. He would rest for a few days, and only then get back to work. That would have to be enough for the medic.

With nothing much to do when resting other than sleeping, and he was pretty sure he had already slept more than in the last month combined, Paz got a datapad in his hands and logged into the forum. 

The connection in the mining facility was something they had worked on fixing among the first things. Some Mandalorians were still unaccounted for, but they all knew of this location. If anything were to happen to compromise the Covert on Nevarro, this was the place to go. But just in case another Mandalorian needed their help, or if they needed it, their communication channels needed to work.

But with that, Paz was also able to log into the forum. A welcome distraction from his ribs and boredom.

It had been quite a while since he had time to even think about the forum. There were many new questions, some answered, some not, even a message from the forum’s admin asking him if he was alright. 

That one caught Paz a little off guard, not expecting the concern, but it did warm his heart a little. He dealt with that first, shooting them a quick message that he was alright, just had some personal things to take care of and didn’t have time to check on the forum. That would have to do. Paz wasn’t about to reveal more. Technically, he wasn’t lying. 

With that out of the way, he got to the most recent questions. 

Being a co-admin of the forum meant he could delete questions, block individuals, that sort of thing, he hardly ever used this ability, it wasn’t why he frequented the forum, but seeing the third question from the top, his eye twitched in anger. 

As far as Holonet went, with all kinds of content, this forum was a serious one, treated with respect. People came with genuine questions. Even if they were desperate, they asked politely and explained the problem, but this one, Paz’s temper flared almost instantly.

**The kid ate a frog????? What do I do?**

That was all the forum post said, the excessive amount of question marks making Paz grip the datapad tighter. Was that really necessary? What kind of question was that even? There were no details, nothing to go off. 

How the fuck was Paz, or any of the other users, supposed to answer seriously when they didn’t even know what species the kid was? The question was asked anonymously too, so Paz had no idea what to think of it other than somebody trying to make fun of the forum.

With that in mind, Paz was nearly ready to delete the post, his finger hovering over the screen, but something stopped him. 

He clicked on the reply button instead.

 **\-- > ** _I don’t know if this is a serious question or not, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. There’s no way anyone can help you out if you don’t explain the situation. Kind of need more than a sentence and bunch of question marks to assess the situation._

There, that was respectful enough of an answer, wasn’t it? Paz didn’t swear even once, keeping all that for the walls of his room where nobody could hear, or read, it. 

It wasn’t until much later that the person answered. Paz was still busying himself on the forum, answering questions or reading through other answered ones to give his insight on the matter, when the notification popped up.

He really wanted to click on it right away, but held himself back and finished typing out a reply he was working on before getting to that one damned question.

He read it once, then twice and then a third time for a good measure and then burst out laughing. Of course. He couldn’t believe that he had missed one possibility earlier and got angry over nothing when the answer was so obvious. It wasn’t a prank, no, it was just a freaked out parent that didn’t know better. And Paz could understand. It reminded him of the time when he was taking care of a foundling for the first time. It didn’t always come as easy to him as it did now after years of experience with the little ones. 

**\-- > ** _I apologize. It was the first time and I panicked. The situation has been dealt with._

The answer nearly brought him to tears when he looked at it again. It just screamed an inexperienced first time parent. Paz merely shook his head, his laughter finally dying out. He didn’t deign the reply with another answer of his own. He rarely wasted time on that. People often thanked him for his answers, he acknowledged that but never really engaged further. 

This one wasn’t special, though it did bring some excitement to his otherwise dull day. 

It wasn’t the last of the odd anonymous forum posts, however, and with time, and five posts total, all of somewhat ridiculous variety, Paz realized it was all the same person. And frankly, Paz was getting tired of this person, whoever they were.

They just posted something, usually with a tone of urgency clearly visible in the text, and then sort of disappeared. There was rarely much detail and Paz was not the only one trying to help the person. Others responded similarly, asking for more details, but the person always eventually came saying that the situation was dealt with. All short and curt. 

Paz’s temper was growing to dangerous levels but he always tried to calm down, telling himself it was not worth it. He was a co-admin, he had to keep his cool. And if he walked in the canteen to get his food with a bit more aggression in his stance, well, the others silently avoided him. Paz was getting snappy. He knew that. He also knew the reason was this annoying anonymous person. Well, Paz was never the greatest with emotions, especially his irritation and anger.

Then it happened again. It was the last straw for Paz. 

The person could remain posting as anonymous but Paz just knew. This was the same person over and over again. 

The post was short, sounded panicked, as always, almost no details, as always. At least the person stopped with the question marks after that first time. That was probably the only thing holding Paz back from hurling the datapad into the wall. 

He sent a silent prayer that the other admin liked him enough not to block him if he said something not as respectful and pressed the reply button.

 **\-- > ** _Are you for real right now? That’s most likely a common cold. Knowing the species would be helpful, which you have forgotten to mention every single time. But child is a child, it’s most likely just a cold. Do you not know anything about your kid? And even if you are new to this whole parent thing, you must have been a kid once? How don’t you recognize a cold? And just make a kriffing account already if you’ll keep asking these useless questions._

Paz didn’t bother with the forum after that, still angry and afraid he would take it out on another stupid parent that didn’t know better. Seriously, how were these people even allowed to have kids? 

He took a deep breath, shutting off the datapad. He needed to spar with somebody, that would definitely help. His ribs were more or less alright by now. 

And so Paz went to search for the unfortunate soul that was willing to spar with the angry Mandalorian.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have seen Mando'a used in other fics and I love the idea of it so I tried to include it in this fic too, but honestly, it's harder than I thought. I might or might not use it much in the future chapters, not sure yet. I will include translations at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Also, Din finally makes a short appearance in this chapter, yay. Might write a short chapter of his POV next, who knows, not me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It had been nearly three weeks since the last anonymous post in the forum. Now, there were many anonymous posts but not a single one from that person. Paz was certain in his ability to distinguish the person. He also knew that any of the new registered users was not his mysterious parent. There was just something about them and the way they asked their questions.

And frankly, Paz was getting a little worried. Logically, it would be better for the person not to ask any questions. That would mean that there were no problems with their kid to discuss, but the lack of questions could also mean many other things too. The Empire was gone, but there were still many dangers in the galaxy. 

Paz shook his head. He was being ridiculous. 

So what if there were no dumb questions? It was good for his blood pressure. Nothing got him quite riled up like those questions. Maybe except Djarin, but that man was another thing entirely. 

Paz refused to think he was missing the annoying parent. As much as those forum posts annoyed him, they brought some semblance of excitement and amusement into his otherwise rather boring life. 

Not that boring was bad. Boring meant safe. But life hidden underground or inside a stone mine was not exactly the one of Mandalorians. 

Paz thought back to the last time he went offline for a long time and hadn’t checked up on the forum. It was after their covert on Nevarro had been attacked. The Mandalorians had been putting their lives back together, there was no time for online forums. Thinking that, Paz immediately dismissed the idea of something similar happening to the annoying parent. 

There was no way something like that had happened. He was just being uncharacteristically pessimistic. The person was fine. Probably some utterly boring person, leading an utterly ordinary life. Who else had time for such forums?

Paz, a Mandalorian and a warrior, who was the first in the line to protect their tribe whenever there was danger, had time for this very online forum, but those were just trivial details. He was sure the other person was nothing like that. 

No matter what the other person was up to, Paz just hoped their kid was fine too. That was the most important. If the person was asking such dumb questions about anything else, Paz would have gotten rid of them long time ago, but at the end of the day, the person was always worried about their kid and Paz didn’t have the heart to ignore them. 

Maybe if Paz wasn’t Mandalorian, maybe then he would be able to just move on from the person and their idiocy, but behind those questions, there was a child whose parent didn’t know what they were doing and the things they did affected the child the most. Paz, his thoughts on the foundlings, had to help out.

It was a usual day in the new location of the Tribe. Paz woke up relatively early, got some caf in his system, he really needed the kick, he was not getting any younger. He went through his morning work-out and then got himself some food for breakfast that he took to the safety of his room.

The good thing the mining facility provided was plenty of rooms for personnel that the Mandalorians occupied now. That meant Paz now had a door that closed, a fresher all to himself, the utmost privacy. He could put his helmet down to eat without much worry of anyone disturbing him or surprising him.

For this, he allowed himself to relax as he munched on his food, the datapad perched upright next to his plate. He scrolled through some questions, stopping on one that seemed the most serious and recent, still unanswered. Paz frowned and quickly finished his food.

He hurried to the infirmary, they now had a whole infirmary, and knocked on the medic’s office. They now had a whole office too. This facility was really so much more fancier than the sewers. 

Paz let himself in after they called out, standing in the doorframe and leaning on the side, his form taking up most of the space. 

He ignored the way the medic took a deep breath. He didn’t need to see her expression to know she was starting to get annoyed with his questions. 

“So let’s say there is this kid, has small red spots all over their back and itchy. What would you say is the reason?” Paz brought up casually, hands crossed in front of his broad chest.

The medic crossed her arms too, not amused. “Do you have a rash on your back, Paz?”

“No? It’s _adiik_. I said it was an _adiik_!”

Just like Paz knew that he was not talking about one of their foundlings, so did the medic. If there was a foundling that needed any sort of medical assistance, she would be the first to know about it. 

With a sigh, she released her hands, and got back to her work, her helmet bowing downwards so she could look at the datapad on her desk, but she had not dismissed him yet.

“Sounds like a simple heat rash,” she said at last, her gloved hand moving over the datapad.

Paz nodded absently. He had thought so too, it sounded simple but he knew that one user that had asked. They lived on a rather cold planet. That made no sense. But even the medic said so herself. 

“Are you finally going to tell me what kid you keep coming to ask me questions about or?”

Her head was till bowed to look at her datapad. Of course she knew he wasn’t asking about the foundlings. Paz, however, wasn’t ready to answer that question. So a silent retreat it was.

Paz silently backed away from the door and hurried out of the infirmary. The medic’s tired sighs echoing in the quiet and empty infirmary. 

Cursing under his nose, the helmet muffling the sound, as he walked the halls, Paz realized he would either have to stop coming to her for medical advice or find a believable excuse. He was not telling anyone about his online forum. Nuh huh. It was enough he was sometimes teased about being so soft around the foundlings, the others didn’t need more material on him. 

Well, he could still wipe the floor with anyone who dared tease him too much but that wasn’t much in accordance with their Way. 

But that was a problem for another time, he had his answer now.

Paz quickly replied to the forum post, stating his theories and why he thought as much. Then the person replied pretty fast saying that they totally forgot to mention they had been on a different planet for a short vacation and it all made sense then. 

He shook his head at the parents. It wasn’t just that one anonymous one that needed to work on their detail providing. If they had mentioned the vacation sooner, Paz wouldn’t have to go through that, frankly, rather embarrassing conversation with the medic. He was pretty sure the medic thought he was talking about himself half the time. 

With a sigh, oh what he sacrificed for the kids of these strangers, he was ready to put down the datapad and go do actually something productive around the covert when a forum post, just a few seconds old, caught his attention. 

He tapped on the text immediately, starting to read over it only after he had the whole thing opened in front of him. And then it was the Imperial insignia all over again.

Paz stood frozen. Something cracked. He wasn’t sure if it was the datapad or something in his armor. 

If the forum question had been asked in front of him, the parent would be lying in an unconscious heap right now. 

Kriff, Paz really wanted to punch something or certain someone. 

The _adiik_. Think of the _adiik_. 

He had to think of the child, Paz reminded himself, repeating it in his head like a mantra. He let out a long breath and released his grip on the datapad, the corner now with finger-shaped dents. 

It was still working though. 

He needed to be calm to reply. He really, really needed to calm down. 

Paz had been on thin ice with his last outburst in the reply to the anonymous parent’s question. The other admin let him be with only a short, slightly disapproving message. And the parent hadn’t even bothered to reply. 

It wasn’t like he couldn’t go and swear up a storm right now, but despite everything, Paz liked the forum. It made him feel useful when he could help. Useful when he had nothing better to do. It wasn’t like he was helping his tribe, but he was still helping. It meant something to him.

He wasn’t ready to throw it all away because he got mad. And mad he was. Downright furious.

But there was time to be furious, and now wasn’t that time. Paz did his best to push his personal feelings aside and focused on the post.

**_User286282_ **  
**My kid accidentally drank some spotchka. He chugged half a glass before I noticed. How dangerous is this?**

Paz just knew this was the very same parent again. At least they made an account as he proposed the last time they had interacted. Although they left the automatically generated username. Paz couldn’t say that came as much of a surprise. Somehow it fit the idea of the anonymous parent he had in his mind to a dot.

He also didn’t need to click on the user to know that their profile would be empty. 

But goddammit was he angry. How could they be so careless as to let their kid near alcohol of any kind? To just have a glass full of alcohol laying around… what kind of a parent were they? 

So far Paz gathered they were new to this parenting thing and their posts were usually pretty dumb but this was serious. Dangerous.

Paz wanted to cuss them out more than anything. _Di’kutla di’kut_. To let a kid get his hands on an alcohol. Seriously? And Paz knew their kid was still a baby. The person didn’t have to clarify the kid’s age, from their posts it was obvious.

Nearly five minutes had passed since the question had been posted. Now Paz swore at himself. That was already five minutes too late for the kid. The poor kid that drank something and didn’t know better. He was wasting time being angry while the kid was in a god knew what state. 

The damned parent didn’t reveal any details. They really knew how to push Paz’s buttons. 

This wouldn’t do. 

Paz immediately typed out a reply. 

**\-- > ** _It’s very dangerous. You should spare some details for goddamn once. How much was in the glass? What species is the kid? Is he small or big? The smaller the kid’s weight and the bigger amount of alcohol the more dangerous it is. Since I don’t know any of that, I advise you look out for how the kid’s acting. He could get cold quick, so watch out for that. Is he confused or vomiting? If so, get him to his doctor right away. You know what, you should definitely take him to a doctor either way, just to be sure. Don’t let the kid get near alcohol again._

Paz wasn’t trained in medicine, but it didn’t matter. The person should take the kid to a doctor no matter what. Maybe he should have typed only that, but oh whatever. He also couldn’t help the last remark. He was being polite, a real feat in his current repressed anger, but he still felt the need to say it. 

Alcohol near a kid. Paz shook his head. That was just plain stupid. Was it a family celebration? Some event? Or was the parent a drinker? That was never a good sign. Paz hoped they weren’t taking the kid to bars. 

Despite the anger, Paz still waited nearly an hour to see if there would be any sort of reply, maybe a more detailed description of the problem, or the parent assuring the kid was fine. Paz would have liked to hear that one. 

There was no response and eventually, Paz had to go return to his day, to his own things in the covert. He couldn’t keep waiting for an answer that might not come, given this particular parent’s reputation. No matter how much he wanted to hear that the kid was alright.

Maybe he would later stop by where the foundlings were, just to see them doing fine, definitely not getting any alcohol, to ease his mind a little. It was hard staying angry when the foundlings swarmed him and asked him to show them his blaster cannon, eyes shining behind their helmets, if they were old enough to wear them. 

Paz left his datapad in his room, knowing he would just keep checking it if he took it with himself. The others were supposed to be working on repairing the hangar area from today on. Paz knew he could make himself useful there. Even if the usefulness was carrying heavy loads. He could do that with ease. 

Once it was repaired, it would be a huge advantage. A hangar bay with a roof that closed and made it almost impossible to spot from outside? It was genius. They could keep their ships close-by in case they needed to abandon the hideout. If they had had their own hangar bay on Nevarro, many of the Mandalorians could have saved their lives. 

Alas, it had to be repaired first, and it needed some extensive repairs. It would take weeks to get it somewhat operational, months till it was fully done. There weren’t that many Mandalorians left and their resources were limited. It would take a lot of time and effort, but it would be an important advantage.

Paz would probably be spending most of his free time up there, helping with whatever he could.

But even if he wanted to help, he still couldn’t quite smother his righteous anger at the anonymous parent. 

It didn’t take long for the other Mandalorians working alongside him to notice and get tired of his silent irritation. 

Adrin, Paz’s long-time friend in the Tribe, dropped the bag of cement he was hauling out of the carrier on the ground, instead of passing it along to Paz.

“The hell?” 

“ _Me'bana?_ ” Adrin asked, hands coming to his hips. Paz was silent. “ _Tion'jor gar kaden?_ “

“ _Naas. Ni nu kaden,_ ” Paz snapped, but realized too late that being all snappy wasn’t exactly helping his case.

He didn’t need to see Adrin’s face to know his friend was glaring at him. 

“Who got you all prickly today?”

“No one, I’m not kriffing prickly.”

“Paz.”

“What?” he nearly yelled. 

Adrin regarded him silently. Considering how far he wanted to push the big Mandalorian. They were friends, yes, but angry Paz had little to no impulse control. 

Paz sighed, he wasn’t stupid. He knew he was angry because of the forum post, not at his friend. “Can we get back to work, or what?”

As Paz bent to pick up the discarded bag of cement, Adrin kept on watching him. Paz could feel his gaze on his back.

“Is this because Djarin is coming later today?”

If Paz was a man of a weaker mind, he might have dropped the bag again. “Djarin?”

“You didn’t know? I thought that was why you were—” Adrin waved a hand at Paz, “—like this.”

He had no idea Djarin was coming, but he also couldn’t exactly deny anything because then Adrin would want to know why he was really angry and Paz was not telling anyone about his forum. No.

And so Paz stayed silent. 

“Look, I get it. The last time we saw him you went all murderous on him, but we got him out of there, right? It’s all good.”

Right. Paz hadn’t seen Djarin since Nevarro. He had wanted to apologize back then. 

“’s all good.” 

“So then why are you—” 

There it was, the questions. Paz inhaled through his nose, throwing the bag into Adrin’s hands, stopping him instantly as the man tried to get a grip on the heavy cement. 

“I’m having a lunch break.” With that, Paz turned his back to Adrin and started walking away.

“ _Haar'chak,_ Paz!”

Paz wasn’t good at deflecting, or lying his way out, so an escape it was. Maybe some would see it as cowardly, but in Paz’s eye it was just another tactic to keep himself alive. That was maybe a tad dramatic, but knowing when to retreat was an important skill for a soldier too. 

Even if he was escaping from prying questions of his friends. 

Now he wasn’t even hungry but had at least half an hour to kill before he could return. Hopefully, Adrin would be doing something else by then, or forget about it. 

Paz went to his room. He might as well rest and get his energy up for some more heavy lifting later. But the thing was, Adrin had told him something he was not aware of. Djarin coming to the covert for whatever reason. 

Why today of all days? Paz wasn’t sure he would be able to behave himself if Djarin said something. Damn, at this point he wouldn’t even have to be exceptionally rude, Paz was irritated enough he could see Djarin breathe and snap. 

Paz threw his hands over the visor of his helmet. What a kriffing day. 

It would be best to just avoid the other Mandalorian. But then again, Paz kind of wanted to see Djarin’s _adi’ka_. Wanted to see the one responsible for the entire covert relocating. 

The last he heard, the armorer had tasked Djarin with finding the child’s people, naming Djarin the kid’s _buir_ in the meantime. 

Paz wondered why the hell was Djarin coming back now. As far as he knew, the kid was still being hunted by the Imps. It wasn’t exactly the safest to come to the covert. The Imps could be tracking him and the kid. Something serious must have happened for Djarin to suddenly arrive.

He should go clean and check his weapons, Paz decided. That might come in handy. Djarin was always a bit of a wild card among the Mandalorian ranks. You never really knew what would come along with him. What kind of mess.

The day went on, Paz working his ass off in the hangar bay. Adrin left him stew in his own anger, not bothering him further. 

He was nearly done with the work, it was already evening, but then he got into a bit of a heated argument with another Mandalorian, their opinions on what was the safest thing to do clashing. It didn’t end up in a physical fight, the other person knew better than to challenge Paz, but it left Paz just as pissed as before. 

Paz was on his way to his room, just about ready to call it a day and hit the bed after a long shower, when he neared the infirmary and spotted the shiny unpainted beskar armor, the shorter man walking in Paz’s direction.

Paz stopped walking. “Djarin,” he greeted with an unnecessary amount of hostility in his voice. It wasn’t Djarin’s fault. Paz was just really fucking tired of this day.

“Vizsla.”

Djarin had stopped as well, his hand twitching at his side as he recalled one of their most recent encounters on Nevarro, before the Mandalorians came to his rescue.

Now that he was no longer walking, Paz could read the man more. His shoulders were stiff, his entire posture tense. And had he just came out of infirmary?

“What’s wrong with you?” Paz asked, the hostile tone easing, but not quite, as he watched Djarin with furrowed brows. The bit of concern hidden behind his helmet. 

His shoulders tensed even more. “What is it to you?”

This could have been the kind of moment that Paz self-critically realized how bad it was for others when he was angry and taking out his anger on them by being all snappy. Because this sure sounded like that. But Paz wasn’t like that, no, it just made his temper rise again. 

“Forget it.” And to think Paz wanted to apologize to Djarin. Not fucking happening. 

Paz resumed his walk, about to pass him by, considering if hitting Djarin’s shoulder would get him a blaster shot in the back or not, when he thought about the foundling. 

He stopped again, shoulder to shoulder with Djarin now. “Where’s the kid?”

Djarin didn’t turn to face him, he was silent, hesitating. “The ship, asleep.”

“You shouldn’t leave it alone.”

“Him,” Djarin corrected him instantly, the helmet sliding to point the t-visor at Paz. Djarin was now looking at him. 

Paz took it in stride. “You shouldn’t leave him alone.” 

Djarin turned away, his shoulders sagging a bit. He was stressed, Paz realized, but not because of him. “I know,” Djarin said, sounding absolutely exhausted.

This wasn’t good. Something in Djarin’s posture changed. He was almost vulnerable. He still had his full armor on, but being a Mandalorian, one learned to read the body language. And what Paz saw now… he wasn’t ready to confront that. To deal with that. He barely even knew Djarin.

Paz didn’t say anything and walked away. 

He was resting in his room, trying hard not to think about Djarin of all people. 

The two of them more or less always avoided each other. Paz couldn’t really remember why or how and when it started. It was better for everyone that way. When they came together, they argued, so avoiding it was. 

Djarin never did anything to change the situation, to make amends, not that he had much chance, always away from the covert. Paz didn’t try either and here they were, years later, disliking each other as much as they could without outright fighting each other. Most of the time. They were part of the same tribe still. They had to keep it together. That was the Way.

What he saw of Djarin today… no, Paz would most definitely not keep recalling that encounter. No. 

His stomach grumbled and with a painful twist, Paz remembered he hadn’t eaten anything beyond breakfast. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with his empty stomach. Berating himself internally, he should know better than not eating all day, Paz exited his room, ready to search for some light dinner in their communal kitchen. 

He had expected Djarin to be long gone now, but he saw him again, thankfully from far away this time round, heading for the exit from the facility. He must have gotten whatever he was here for if he was leaving already. 

With a surprise, Paz noted that Djarin was carrying something small in one of his hands. The other hand of his was stroking slowly at the brown bundle. The _adi’ka_. So he had brought the kid in the end. Paz wanted to see, but it seemed like the child was still asleep. The Mandalorian’s hold on it was gentle. Djarin seemed less tense, too. 

Whatever was happening, Paz was not going to interrupt. His curiosity was still there but he wasn’t about to go bother a sleeping foundling. 

The sight eased his mind a bit, his own shoulders releasing the tension he had been unconsciously carrying all day. Paz even found himself putting together a healthy meal, staying in the kitchen for way longer than he had anticipated. Adrin came later, freezing momentarily in the doorway upon spotting him. 

“Well, that’s unusual.”

“Shut up, _di’kut,_ ” Paz grumbled. “You want some?”

Adrin took it for what it was, a peace offering. Paz was always better at expressing himself through his actions rather than words. Adrin accepted the food and both of them took their portions to their own rooms. 

When Paz had finished, he noticed a notification on his datapad, one from the forum. He debated not opening it but his curiosity won him over. 

User286282 had replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loose Mando'a translation:
> 
> adiik = child  
> di'kutla di'kut = stupid idiot  
> Me'bana? = What happened?  
> Tion'jor gar kaden? = Why are you angry?  
> Naas. Ni nu kaden. = Nothing. I'm not angry.  
> Haar'chak. = Damn it.  
> adi'ka = little one  
> buir = father/mother  
> di'kut = idiot


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was like 'short chapter from Din's POV maybe haha' and then this thing happened, it's longer than the first two chapters combined i- anyways, nothing new really happening here, I have a final coming up so I wanted to do some light writing while I study, but there's plenty of Din. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Mando'a used in this chapter:
> 
> adi'ka = little one

Din had no idea what had possessed him to open Holonet and search for poisonous frogs and kids eating said poisonous frogs. With the word child in the search bar, he got relocated to a forum for parents and that was how it started.

The frog hadn’t been poisonous, or if it was, the kid was fine even after eating it. Maybe the little womp rat was supposed to be eating frogs, what did Din know. 

It was slightly terrifying to think how much he didn’t know. Taking care of the kid would have been so much easier if he knew what species the kid was, what he ate, how often he ate, how much he was supposed to sleep, what things were dangerous to him and which not. 

There was so much he didn’t know. 

Din was starting to get nightmares from how stressed he was, losing sleep over what to give the kid for breakfast. It was absolutely ridiculous, what his life had become now that the child was there, but he didn’t regret his decision to save him.

He couldn’t imagine not going back and saving the kid from whatever sick experiments the Imps were performing on him. 

As terrifying as not knowing anything about the kid was, the idea of leaving the _adi’ka_ to the Imps was even worse. 

And so here they were, the kid doing everything in his power to scare Din shitless and Din panicking and writing to the forum. 

He sometimes thought the kid was doing it on purpose. 

Either way, it always made him panic, the shit the kid got up to. He could look away for a second and there would be something disappearing in the kid’s mouth. Din had no idea how the kid did it, sneaking things into his hands. Din never saw him, never heard him. It was those mysterious powers, Din was sure. 

But if Din was something, it was resourceful and smart. He always knew about his surroundings, could always quickly guess what the kid had done, could think up several ways to counter it. The panic was still there though, at the back of his mind, because what if the solution he thought of wasn’t the right one? What if he hurt the kid while trying to help him?

That was how he always ended up back at the forum, asking those questions. It was cathartic, in a way, to let it out, to tell somebody. Because he sure as hell didn’t have anyone around whom he could ask for advice.

These little incidents with the kid, more often than not, made him think about Paz Vizsla. Din knew about Vizsla’s reputation, the big soldier with even bigger heart, but only when it came to foundlings. 

It was hard to believe, especially for Din. Vizsla had always been antagonistic in his presence. On the best of days, they just passed each other in the covert, neither acknowledging the other Mandalorian. On the best of days. 

If there was somebody who probably knew how to take care of the little ones, it was Vizsla. If all the other Mandalorians were saying it, it must have been the truth. 

Din doubted they disliked him so much they would all start some elaborate prank to make him think Vizsla was great with foundlings even if he wasn’t. Yeah, that was a ridiculous idea. 

Din had to accept it, Vizsla was just good with kids.

If there were days when Din wished the two of them were friends rather than enemies, it was when he needed help with the kid. Just the idea of leaving the kid in the covert for a day for a fellow Mandalorian to babysit, in the total safety of the hideout… what a nice idea. If only he was close enough with any of them to do that. 

But things rarely went as Din wanted them to. The sheer amount of people changing deals and terms and stuff was almost unbelievable. With the kid, things got even more unpredictable. His life really was anything but boring. Sometimes, though, he would much rather have the boring. 

Din thought back to the time he asked about the frog on the forum. The reply he got from the admin, or the co-admin, as the little words under the person’s username read, was kind of passive aggressive. It made Din feel rather guilty for asking such nonsense. But he still got an answer, so that was something.

He wondered what the co-admin was like in person, probably a gruff person, with a rough exterior, but oddly caring inside. Why else would they bother answering him? 

And they answered again and again. All of his questions were met with a bit of a disapproving reply, but the co-admin at least tried to give Din something to work with, some things to consider. It was almost like asking a friend for advice. A friend that was tired of his shit but still cared enough to answer. 

It was weird thinking of the co-admin as a friend, Din knew that, but he still couldn’t let go of the feeling. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. There were Cara and Greef. He could consider them friends. Peli too. In a way. Din didn’t talk with them often, met them on even rarer occasion, but they always welcomed him with a smile. 

Those smiles made him feel warm inside. Notifications from the co-admin did too. 

When the kid was asleep one day, and Din had nothing better to do as the ship flew them to another planet for yet another job, Din found himself clicking on the co-admin’s profile.

He was surprised to see there was almost nothing there. When he sometimes scrolled the forum questions (Din figured learning more about raising a kid wouldn’t hurt), he saw the co-admin contributing a lot, and so he expected the person to have a full profile made, but that wasn’t the case at all. 

There was the username, but no part of it was a name or a nickname, or species, or anything at all giving. The gender wasn’t picked, the age wasn’t stated, not their species, not the planet where they lived, it wasn’t stated whether they were married or had their own kids, although Din thought they must if they knew so much. There was nothing on their profile. Din couldn’t figure out why at all. Why the secrecy if they were such an avid contributor?

One would think the co-admin was some mother that stayed at home and took care of her many kids, or even a grandmother at this point, with so much experience, but then why wouldn’t this mother fill out her profile, what was the need for such secrecy?

Unless the co-admin was unlike anything like that, unlike anything Din could have imagined. 

Din’s profile would probably look the same, if he ever got around to make it. It was one thing to read such a forum, another to ask questions there and something entirely else to become a frequent user with an account of his own. 

.

The kid got sick. Din knew as soon as he opened the sleeping compartment of his ship and saw the kid. 

The kid was lacking energy the night before, but not as much that Din would worry. For all he knew, the kid could be levitating stuff behind his back and the use of the powers always made him sleepy. 

But then the next day the kid was warm to the touch, warmer than usual, and his cheeks were reddish, almost a bit purple, and when the kid’s eyes didn’t fully open, lacking the usual sparkle, Din panicked. 

So of course, he went back to the forum. He got the co-admin’s answer, like usual.

 **\-- >** _Are you for real right now? That’s most likely a common cold. Knowing the species would be helpful, which you have forgotten to mention every single time. But child is a child, it’s most likely just a cold. Do you not know anything about your kid? And even if you are new to this whole parent thing, you must have been a kid once? How don’t you recognize a cold? And just make a kriffing account already if you’ll keep asking these useless questions._

This time, although sort of helpful, in a way that assured Din that he was overreacting and the kid would be fine in no time, it hurt. 

It hurt, because the co-admin was right, in so many ways. They hit all the sore topics. 

Now on top of the worry for the kid, Din felt awful the entire day. 

Knowing the species would be helpful—Din didn’t know.

Do you not know anything about your kid—not really.

It hurt to admit, but that was the reason why Din panicked so easily. He didn’t know things and he was not used to not knowing things. And the co-admin caught on to him so fast. Din wondered if he was like an open book to them. They even knew it was Din asking all those anonymous questions. They somehow put them all together. 

This time, Din didn’t answer. 

This time, the forum didn’t make him feel better. It had assured him that his theory that the kid caught a cold was most likely right, he got that second opinion, but he didn’t feel like a friend had patted his back and told him he was right, no need to worry. 

Instead, Din felt like he was failing at everything. Failing the co-admin. Failing the kid. 

.

Din had been busy. It was one job after another as he tried to get the credits he needed to take care of himself and the kid. Not to mention Razor Crest. That ship ate money like nothing else. If people would just stop shooting at him…

He tried to find other Mandalorians that could help him take his foundling to his people, but that wasn’t exactly going great. 

With all that, he managed to keep the kid somewhat behaved, no scares and no eating of weird things. Maybe the kid sensed how stressed he was and let him rest for a bit without causing any mayhem. 

A few weeks of that wasn’t nearly enough.

Where Din went, the kid went with him. He refused to leave him alone. That never worked well. The kid was a danger to himself, still too young to be left without supervision, even if he was technically 50, for all intents and purposes the kid was still a baby. Not to mention there was the issue of the Imps still hunting the kid. 

If Din wanted to get any sort of information, the inns and pubs were the place to go. 

The planet they were on was nothing special, but there had been talks of a Mandalorian being spotted around and so Din had to check that out. 

He entered the pub, the kid sticking close by as he walked by him. Din kept his walk slow, so the kid wouldn’t get lost or accidentally trampled. There weren’t many patrons present, the pub and the planet were a lot similar to Sargon. 

Even as Din walked slowly and with the child trailing him, the beskar and simply being Mandalorian, made everyone look at him, some took a double take even, but mostly all of them glanced away quickly, intimidated. They couldn’t tell if he was looking at them through his helmet, but it was like nobody wanted to risk it either way. 

Din sat at an empty table. It wasn’t in a corner or by the wall like he would prefer, but it was a small pub, a small town, a small planet. There weren’t great many tables left even if the place wasn’t crowded. 

He reached down to put the kid into a chair next to him and waited for the barkeep and a waitress in one to come. He ordered the kid some soup and nothing for himself. The usual. 

The woman nodded, not minding his own lack of beverages and meals and was about to walk away when he stopped her, asking for information on Mandalorians in the area. She seemed reluctant, but a few credits quickly fixed that. Din sometimes wondered if there really was no bartender that was going to tell him for free. 

He was told there was a person who could tell him more, that they were a regular and would be there any minute. All he had to do was wait. 

And true to her words, when it was time for lunch, an elderly man entered the pub and went straight for the bar counter. The barkeep got his order memorized by now, or so it seemed, as she pulled out an already filled glass of spotchka and handed it to the guy. Then she rather rudely pointed right at Din, telling something to the man.

The man did a double take, like many other had previously. At first he glanced at where the woman pointed, about to dismiss him, probably, only to look again as his brain registered the Mandalorian. 

They probably didn’t see many Mandalorians around, though Din was hoping that at least sometimes they did. Sometime recently, ideally. That was why he was there after all.

Looking rather pale, the man took his drink with a nod to the barkeep and made his way to Din. 

“So, um—” the man looked from Din to the child and then back to Din. With a little shrug, the man sat opposite Din, placing his glass down. “Heard you asked about me.”

“I asked about a Mandalorian,” Din said without missing a beat, “I was told you can tell me more.”

The man laughed, but it sounded rather tense. “Why are you asking, exactly? Aren’t they like, your people?”

“Do you know about any Mandalorians here or not?” Din leaned forward for an effect.

The man paled even more, swallowing audibly. He fidgeted with his drink, before deciding against that and pushed it a little further to the side from himself. “I, uh, well…”

Din wondered if the man could feel his glare or not. Did this fool even know anything? Din was starting to think this was a fluke. He glanced at the barkeep without moving his head so that the guy would think he was still looking at him. The barkeep was doing a bad job of pretending she was working instead of subtly watching them. 

“Do you or do you not?” Din was about to stand up and leave and some of that intent must have been carried through his words because the man stilled, his eyes turning steely with some sort of determination. 

“If anything happens in this town, I know about it.”

Din didn’t comment. If the man could finally get to the point that would be nice. 

“A couple Mandalorians, actually, not just one, passed here some weeks ago. You see that table over there?” 

The man pointed behind Din who turned to look over his shoulder slightly. The corner table by the wall where he would have liked to sit. Figures. 

Din turned back to face the man, nodding in acknowledgement. He frowned slightly when he saw the glass of spotchka from the corner of his eye. Hadn’t it been closer to the man just a few seconds before?

Nah, he probably just saw wrong. 

The man continued talking, “They sat there for a few hours, got some food and then left with Marj.”

“Who’s Marj?”

“I was just getting there.” The man waved dismissively, his fear of the Mandalorian slowly receding as their conversation went on. “She’s the best doctor in town, this whole damn planet, too, probably.” 

Din frowned under his helmet. Had the Mandalorians been injured?

“Allie, the mum of those twins at the end of Rasher street was giving birth to her third one, a boy, finally, so they had to wait for Marj.”

The surface of spotchka rippled. Din looked at it, but the glass wasn’t moving, nobody held it. Didn’t it move, though? It looked even further away from the man. What the kriff? 

“Now I guess they were injured, or had another person injured, Marj wouldn’t tell me, some doctor code or something, and it’s not like I could see under all that armor y’all wear, kinda excessive, don’t you think?”

Din had to forget the glass of spotchka to focus on what the man was telling him. The guy was obviously over-sharing, getting a bit too comfortable in Din’s presence. 

Din didn’t say anything, let the blank of his helmet, and the equally blank stare the man couldn’t see, speak for him. 

The man fidgeted in his seat again, clearing his throat. “Anyway, that’s the Mandalorians.”

“That’s it?” Din said, his tone with hints of anger and disbelief at the man and his story. 

“Yes?”

Din sighed. Injured Mandalorians, more of them, possibly two or at least three. That was sort of unusual. “When was this?”

The guy told him the date. Din’s hands moved to form fists despite himself. That was two days after the covert on Nevarro had been attacked. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. Din quickly recalled the map of the part of galaxy he was currently in, and one planet spoke to him. He remembered it being the location of the new covert. It was pretty close. 

He knew that as soon as the Tribe started relocation, the medic and the foundlings would leave first, they were vital members of the Tribe. And if anyone was left to take care of the foundlings, the medic was the most skilled. Even if other Mandalorians died in a fight, their death would be considered a good one, aiding in the rescue of the foundlings, their future. 

And so if the others were travelling with injuries, without the medic on board, there must have been someone in a critical condition among them. 

Was the glass even fucking further from the guy? What the hell was—

“Hey! You, Mando!” came a shout from a group of guys who just entered the pub. One of them, the presumed leader, and the one shouting, was pointing at Din. Just what was with the people of this planet pointing at everybody?

Din rolled his eyes. A group of armed men barging in and screaming at him was never a good sign.

The next thing they would be screaming about the value of his beskar.

“The beskar!” Here they go. “We want it. And we’re getting it!”

Din spared them a single glance. Five guys, all young, he had to give them that, probably all younger than him. And still not mature enough to know when to pick a fight, it seemed. One blaster, some spears, a knife, and was that a bat? Yeah, these boys stood no chance. Din would barely sweat, but the blaster got him a bit weary.

“You hooligans! Do you know what you’r—” the old man sitting opposite him turned to yell back at them.

Din ignored him and slowly rose to his feet, he turned to grab the child— 

“Fuck,” Din muttered as he hurriedly pulled the glass of spotchka away from the kid’s grasp. He hadn’t heard the kid take it, too preoccupied with the screaming men. With concern, he noted that the kid had already drank half the glass before he stopped him.

“Dammit, spit it out!”

But the kid didn’t do that, instead it looked at him, eyes half closing and looking sort of hazy. It took the kid a while to find him and focus his sight, as if he couldn’t exactly figure out from where Din’s voice was coming. When the kid found him, he giggled and cooed lazily, and then nearly toppled face first to the floor.

Din scooped the kid into his arm, shielding it as best as he could in case the dumbasses decided to start shooting at him. 

He could go about this many ways, but with the kid drinking spotchka of all things, Din was not playing. He was not wasting any time either. 

With a move faster than any of the guys could register, Din drew his own blaster and shot the leader’s one out of his hand. The leader yelped in surprise and looked at his hand, shocked. 

“Get out of my way,” Din said in a low tone.

“Just go home, guys. Marvin, I’m not listening to your mother bitch about this all evening,” the barkeep said to the men. Din couldn’t tell which one was Marvin, they all looked spooked now that Din had fired first.

Three guys fled back outside at once. Marvin was probably one of them, not that Din cared. 

Din raised his hand to shoot again. A warning shot, somewhere right beside their heads. They didn’t need to know that, though.

As soon as his arm was up, the other of the remaining two guys dropped his bat. “Sorry, dude, I’m out.” With that, he was gone too. 

The leader still stood there, only his pride and stupidity keeping him there. 

“Move,” Din said, “and I’ll forget this ever happened.” Last chance. 

It was a rather generous offer. The guy had to know Din could kill him right here, right now. He could also go out and chase all of those guys and kill them too. The old guy, the barkeep, the few other patrons hiding under tables at this point, Din could kill them too if he wanted. It wouldn’t even be that hard. 

By some miracle, the guy finally relented, his eyes going down to his shoes, as he moved to the side. Din walked out of the pub, making sure nobody was waiting to ambush him, nor following him. 

When he made sure it was really safe, Din ran to his ship in a mad dash. 

He closed the ramp right away and was about to put the child in his bed and check on him, but as soon as they were inside, the kid noticed the steel ball from the ship’s controls. 

When they had been exiting the ship, Din noticed the kid was trying to sneak it out on their trip but he snatched it and put it on the ground inside, about to retrieve it later upon their return. 

It was still where he had left it, the kid noticed it and from then on it was pure chaos.

He had seen the kid levitate the mudhorn, the kriffing mudhorn, but other than that, the kid rarely used his powers, it tired him out, but now? Whatever the spotchka did to the kid, it pumped him like nothing. 

The kid squealed as he made the steel ball fly from one end of the ship to the other. Din wanted to put the kid to his bed, but he had to keep ducking to avoid the flying, and really fucking fast, ball. “Stop that,” he called at the kid, but no results. 

Din silently cursed at the dents in his hull the kid was making and ran to deposit him in his bed. When the kid hit the bedding, he dropped his hand, the ball clattering to the ground with it. He cooed, confused, at Din. 

“You had enough?” Din grumbled, but he couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. The kid never used his powers so… blatantly, so obviously, so showy. It was the alcohol, Din knew. It worried him what more the alcohol had affected. 

But the kid was at least calm right now. Din turned to walk away and find the first aid kit. He barely made a few steps when an invisible force pulled him back. Quite forcefully. Din was swept off his feet, his back and head hitting the part of metal under his bed compartment. He cursed again, this time out loud. His vision swam for a few seconds, the child giggling above his head. 

Din refused to think how absolutely weird and wrong it felt to be grabbed like that by the mysterious force and stood again. “You don’t want me to leave, kid?”

There was no answer, but as he tried to walk away again, he found that he couldn’t. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Stop that. I just need to scan you, is all.”

Whatever memories the kid had of the words like ‘scan’, it must have resurfaced, because in an instant, his long ears dropped. He made a pitying little sound and started crawling to the far end of the bed. 

Din’s heart broke at the sight, at the knowledge he was the one who elicited that kind of reaction from his _adi’ka_. The kid didn’t have the clearest mind right now. Din didn’t want him to think he was an enemy. The kid would probably force choke him accidentally. 

“I’m sorry, kid, I’m not going to do anything to you, okay? See?” Din held up his hands. “Nothing. There’s nothing that can hurt you.”

Din pushed himself into the cramped space of his bed, the kid allowed him to, but still didn’t look at him, still cowered in the corner. Din’s entire soul was shattering. 

“Hey, hey, kid, come here. It’s okay. Nobody’s gonna hurt you here, okay?” Din was coaxing him gently. And with few more similar words, the kid finally moved, so agonizingly slowly, and pressed himself to Din’s chest. Din cursed himself for not removing some of the armor before. The warmth could have been more of a comfort for the child.

The kid was calming down. Din could see his fear ebbing away as the creases on his forehead lightened. That was good, no more of the mysterious abilities either. 

Din placed a blanket over the kid, he seemed like he was about to fall asleep any moment. Din couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. He had probably overworked himself with his abilities. But maybe it was the alcohol in his system. Spotchka wasn’t the most alcoholic but the kid was tiny and drank half a glass. Now he was getting sleepy. Was that a bad thing or a good thing? Din hated that he had no real idea.

‘Do you not know anything about your kid?’

Din recalled the question from the co-admin’s reply several weeks ago. 

Right. The forum. There was still the forum. 

Din couldn’t leave the kid and go search for the medical scanner until the kid was fully asleep. The kid was dozing off, but it would still take several minutes. 

He ruffled under the pillow and found what he was looking for. He had been reading something on his datapad last night and was too tired to move so he just stashed it there so the kid wouldn’t find it. He would probably try to bite it first. 

With one hand still securely around the kid, he opened the forum with the other and quickly, as quickly with one hand as he could, he typed out a question. 

Din barely registered the username he had been logged in under. He had made an account one night when there was nothing better to do as they traveled a long distance. He must have stayed logged in, not that it really mattered. There was absolutely nothing in his profile.

He had a good reason for keeping his profile empty. He was a Mandalorian on a run with an Imperial asset. Yeah, he was not writing that there. 

**_User286282_ **  
**My kid accidentally drank some spotchka. He chugged half a glass before I noticed. How dangerous is this?**

It was short and simple. And he would probably get berated, again, for not providing details, but he couldn’t reveal anything about the kid, it was too dangerous, and the other things, well, he didn’t know those. 

It would have to do. 

Din had refreshed the page approximately 75 times before a reply came.

 **\-- >** _It’s very dangerous. You should spare some details for goddamn once. How much was in the glass? What species is the kid? Is he small or big? The smaller the kid’s weight and the bigger amount of alcohol the more dangerous it is. Since I don’t know any of that, I advise you look out for how the kid’s acting. He could get cold quick, so watch out for that. Is he confused or vomiting? If so, get him to his doctor right away. You know what, you should definitely take him to a doctor either way, just to be sure. Don’t let the kid get near alcohol again._

Din nearly sat up with how eager he was to read the reply, but he stopped himself before he managed to wake up the kid. 

He read through it several times before glancing up to see it was the co-admin that had replied. Not that Din really needed to read the handle to know. He could tell it was the co-admin simply by the tone of their answer. 

Even without Din ever putting many details in his questions, the co-admin always managed to help him out somehow. The questions they posed now were very appreciated as Din thought over every single one. He pondered over them, his frown increasing. 

The kid didn’t have a doctor. Din couldn’t just take him to somebody he didn’t know, somebody he didn’t trust. Peli nor Cara could help him out, they weren’t doctors. Maybe Greef knew somebody who was a doctor but then again Greef’s people were hard to trust, in Din’s experience. Greef had the best of intentions, but it didn’t work like that. 

He briefly considered this Marj person. She must have been somewhere close in the town. No. Too risky. Honestly, Din should already be long gone from this planet. Many people have seen him here, who knew who already knew about his appearance there. 

Even if Marj was nice enough, she couldn’t be trusted. If she found in the kid whatever that Imperial doctor had, who knew what she would do. She would also have questions about the kid that Din couldn’t answer. Too many risks. 

But the co-admin had said it themself, it was for the best to let a doctor see the kid. Maybe Marj could look the kid over and then whatever she did, Din would make a hasty escape with the kid. But what if she drugged the kid instead of giving him real medicine? 

There were so many things that could go wrong. 

This was bad. Really, really bad.

Shit, of course. 

There was one place nearby where he could go. 

The new covert. 

Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?

They had the medic there. She could be trusted. No one in the covert would call Imps on them. Even if the medic could only guess what would help the kid, she could at least make sure he was fine. 

Din scooped the sleeping kid, glad to see him still breathing, even though he really felt a bit colder to the touch. Din took him with the blanket too and wrapped it closer around his little body and rushed to the cockpit. 

He placed the kid in his cradle on the side seat and sat himself in his pilot one, already pressing buttons and controls to get them out of this planet. He immediately set a course for the planet with their covert. 

Everything was a blur from then on. Din kept checking that the kid was breathing, his worry rising as the kid barely stirred in his sleep. He contacted the covert through their secret and coded channels, parked the ship by the side of the mining facility where he was told to and then took the child and hurried to the infirmary, not even locking the ship behind him. He couldn’t care less right now, not with the child still asleep and not responding to anything much. 

There was a Mandalorian waiting for him at the entrance. Din vaguely recognized her from the armor. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and barked out, “Infirmary, now,” without much preamble. He also found that he couldn’t care less about her affront right now either. 

It was only the kid’s warm breath puffing and fogging his armor that stopped him from marching around her and running to the infirmary. Din had to remind himself he didn’t know where the infirmary was. She wasn’t even walking slowly, sensing the urgency, but it was still too slow to him. 

“I got it from here,” he said to her, dismissing her without even a thanks as he entered the infirmary. He would feel bad about that later. Now, there was only his _adi’ka_ in his mind. 

“Djarin,” the medic stood abruptly from her desk, shocked to see him in her office without much warning. She must have expected him, he had called several hours ago, but his entrance wasn’t exactly graceful.

She quickly walked around her desk. “What do we have here? Let me look at you, little one,” she said softly.

Then it was a question after a question. Din did his best to explain everything that had happened, what the kid was doing with his powers, how it usually drained him. He couldn’t answer all the questions, but she accepted that and moved on to what they could do. 

She gave the kid a shot of something, seeing his sugar levels have dropped significantly. She left the kid wrapped in the blanket from the ship and got him another one. 

Din watched all of this anxiously, glad that the kid was asleep for the whole lot of it, at least. The kid would freak out otherwise. He hated doctors. Understandably. 

A hand came to rest at his shoulder, over a pauldron, more precisely. “He’s going to be fine, don’t worry. He just needs to sleep it off, get the alcohol out of his system. The usual medical scanner you have on your ship should tell you when it’s all out. He might sleep longer after since you told me he used his abilities, but once the alcohol is out of his system, the sleep is of no worry.”

Din nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, he would probably choke on relief. 

“He won’t wake up any time soon, you should go back to your ship, rest. Come back in a few hours.”

“I can’t, if he wakes up—”

“He won’t be up for hours. I’ll keep my eye on him.” She gestured to the empty infirmary with a little chuckle. “Not like I have much work to keep me busy.”

“But if—” she crossed her arms. Din shut up. “Fine. I’ll be back later.”

He patted the kid’s head, brushing his soft hair back, before letting go. “I’ll be back, kid,” he said quietly. 

Din kept glancing back at the kid, not really wanting to part with him even for the next few hours, but the medic got tired of him and shooed him out. 

With a sigh, Din started his walk back, hoping he would find the way out. He hadn’t been paying much attention to anything but the kid’s breathing on his way there, but he was still a Mandalorian, some subconscious part of him made sure to trace all the possible exits, important landmarks to remember so he wouldn’t get lost. 

He let his muscle memory kick in and lead him out. It was like his mind had stayed with the kid in the infirmary, all he could think about was the little one and whether he wasn’t cold, whether he was okay…

“Djarin.”

Seriously? 

This was exactly what Din didn’t need after a long and tiring day. 

“Vizsla,” he said, his voice clipped. 

Din stopped walking, eyeing the taller man with caution. His hand twitched near his blaster involuntarily. It wasn’t that he expected anyone to attack him in the covert, but the hostility in Vizsla’s voice had him doubting the security for a second.

Din could almost feel as Vizsla glanced in the direction from which Din was coming from. He must have noted the infirmary there. “What’s wrong with you?” 

He wanted to think Vizsla was a friend, worried about him, but the question was sharp, no concern in his tone. 

Din squared his shoulders. He didn’t owe Vizsla any answer. Especially not if the other man didn’t even really care. “What is it to you?” Din couldn’t help snapping a little. 

Like hell was he admitting that he had spent his day worried sick about the kid, panicking and running to the infirmary like his life depended on it. Vizsla didn’t need to know Din had dropped everything just to get his little one seen by a doctor.

“Forget it,” Vizsla barked out and there it was. That quick temper of his again. This was why they could never hold a conversation. Vizsla was always angry at him for some reason. 

Din knew he wasn’t being exactly friendly today either, but that was today, he had had a very bad day. 

Vizsla moved to walk past, Din was already bracing himself for a shoulder push. It wouldn’t be the first time from Vizsla. At least Din knew the other Mandalorian did it just to spite him and not to really hurt. He was sure that if Vizsla really wanted it, and put all of his strength into the push, Din would end up thrown to the ground no matter how hard he braced himself. 

In a fight with brute strength, Din stood no chance against Vizsla. 

He did not expect Vizsla to stop by his side. “Where’s the kid?”

So maybe his reputation with the foundlings was really true, if he was already thinking about the child in Din’s care. 

Would he go check on the kid in the infirmary if Din told him? Would he get a lecture? Be scolded? Din probably deserved that for not realizing the kid would snatch the alcohol. But the kid was cheating, using his powers. Din, the trained soldier, hadn’t even heard him take the glass.

Din had been thinking too long. “The ship, asleep.” He decided to lie. He didn’t know why. Maybe he was too tired to face Vizsla and his disappointment in his parenting skills. It was one thing to be scolded by an online co-admin, a stranger, and another by his fellow Mandalorian, a member of the same tribe. Din wasn’t sure he had enough energy to face that today. 

Whether he noticed the lie or not, Vizsla went on. “You shouldn’t leave it alone.”

He knew that Vizsla didn’t mean anything by it, but the pronoun made his insides burn in rage. It reminded Din of all those Imps calling the kid an asset, like he was some thing, not an actual living being. 

“Him,” Din said, moving his head back to look at Vizsla, wherever his eyes would be. He hoped Vizsla could feel the intensity of his glare somehow even through the helmet.

“You shouldn’t leave him alone,” he corrected himself, tone still a bit chiding like before. 

Din’s glare faded, the fire in him extinguished instantly. He had to avert his gaze. “I know,” he said, his voice weaker than he would have liked. 

He knew he shouldn’t. He should have been more careful. Din hated himself for not being more careful with the alcohol. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the kid had his sneaking habits and his abilities. He should have known the kid would be fascinated by the spotchka’s vibrant color. He should have expected it, taken it into account, but he hadn’t.

Vizsla didn’t say anything. He just walked away. 

He should be glad the conversation ended so fast, but some part of him wanted Vizsla to turn back, pat him on the back and ask him how he really was, offer him help, give him some tips if he really was the best father around, which he apparently was. 

Nothing like that happened, however. Din wasn’t sure how long he stood there. 

In the end, he found his way back to Razor Crest, the nap not sounding so bad right now. He was so drained. Din fell asleep as soon as his head hit a pillow. 

But Din didn’t sleep. He woke up with a start, checking the time. It had only been about half an hour and he felt even worse. 

He was too stressed to sleep with the kid away from him.

Din made himself a quick cup of caf and headed back to the infirmary. 

The medic was not happy to see him again so soon, but Din refused to leave and sat by the kid for a while. It was still nice to be able not to watch his back for a second, but Din knew that they couldn’t stay in the covert for long. 

He had already been a reason for the last relocation, the others would dislike him even more if he brought Imps to their doors again. 

The medic understood this as well, checked the kid’s blood again, gave him another shot and then told Din the kid now only needed to sleep. He could sleep on his ship too just as comfortably.

Din didn’t need to be told twice. He thanked the medic, asked her to give his thanks to the Mandalorian who had led him to the infirmary before, and then left with the kid. 

And if he was extra gentle with the kid, stroking his head as he walked to the ship, well, Din needed something to ease his guilt. He hoped he could make up for it. 

He silently promised the kid he would let him play with the ball from his controls for an entire week, with no complaints, as long as the kid would wake up okay, and soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the rather sporadic updates, I write when I feel like it or when I have time and it's my finals season at uni so there's that. Though, don't worry, I have every intention of finishing this fic. I have outlined till chapter 8 so far. I also want to thank you all for the lovely comments, this fic is rn my only serotonin boost and makes me super happy and even more so when I see your feedback ♥ y'all who take your time to comment are so precious and I love you all, you have no idea.
> 
> To answer a question: this fic is canon divergence and you will understand more after chapter 5, but for those wondering, the stuff up to the episode with Ahsoka is more or less canon for this fic, but only loosely ig because I would have to go through each ep religiously and this fic isn't that serious so I'm not gonna do that. I'm going to ignore the rest of season 2 and write something of my own to fit the story, you will see. 
> 
> Space reddit tag, huh, I didn't think about that tbh, I don't use reddit much and based this on a forum for mothers we have in my country lol.
> 
> That's all from me in this super long note, hope you enjoy the chap! :) 
> 
> Mando'a translation:
> 
> di'kut = idiot  
> adi'ka = little one  
> buir = father/mother

**_User286282_**  
 **\-- >** _Thank you. I took him to his doctor, the kid will be alright._

Paz stared at those two sentences, they were brief, but to the point, much like everything the anonymous parent had ever written, either in an answer or a reply. But it was all Paz needed. 

His shoulders relaxed instantly, it was like the events of the entire day just disappeared and he could finally breathe again. Paz hadn’t even realized how on edge he had been all this time until he read the reply and felt the immense relief. 

He was getting too attached to this little kid he knew almost nothing about. It wasn’t like that was anything dangerous, per se, but it was, well, odd. Paz shouldn’t be feeling like this about a child he hadn’t even met.

But it wasn’t like that was anything unusual for Paz either. It was those ingrained paternal instincts in him. He saw a child in need and he immediately wanted to protect and help. This child was no different.

The worst thing was, if he wanted to know about the child, he would have to wait for another forum post. 

Halting in his movements, his breath catching slightly, Paz realized something. Now that the anonymous parent had made a profile, there was a possibility of exchanging private messages. 

It would be so simple, just a click away. Paz logged off the forum and turned off his datapad.

He was most definitely not messaging the annoying parent.

Paz couldn’t trust himself to be perfectly respectful to them, not when he got so easily angered by the things they did. There was also this sort of invisible boundary. Paz didn’t know them, they were a stranger. He had no real right to come yell at them about their parenting, even if he sometimes didn’t approve. They had their own life and just because Paz was interested in knowing their kid was doing alright, he couldn’t invite himself into their lives. 

Not to mention that was dangerous for him too. He couldn’t let slip his real identity by any chance. He was lucky the forum’s admin didn’t really care as long as Paz behaved and kept contributing, but the parent might have questions Paz wasn’t ready to answer.

It was also kind of weird to just go and message a stranger ‘Hey, so you are dumb as hell, but that’s not your kid’s fault and I’m an overprotective bastard and now I kinda want to make sure the kid stays alive, so anyway, how’s the kid?’. 

Yeah, that would be very weird. If a stranger asked Paz about one of the foundlings, Paz would go all blaster cannon blazing at their ass, so maybe it was best to keep it together and leave the parent alone, bar the occasional forum reply. 

Paz was not adopting a foundling. The kid was not a foundling. The kid had his parents, albeit stupid ones, or at least one of them was stupid. What did Paz know. Very little about the kid, even less about the annoying parent. 

Maybe Paz needed a little breather from the Mandalorian Creed. Not every child that had been slightly hurt was his to take care of. 

Paz went to bed, sleep coming to him easily that night. 

Before he knew it. Really, it felt like he had barely closed his eyes and then he was opening them again. For a few seconds, Paz had no idea what had caused him to wake up. His datapad wasn’t blaring at his side, so it couldn’t be the usual time he woke up on weekdays. 

It was an incessant knocking on his door. Not many people would dare do that to Paz so it could only be one _di’kut_. 

With a groan and his joints cracking, Paz got himself out of his bed and put on a shirt and his helmet before opening the door to his room. And just as expected Adrin was standing before him. 

“What?” Paz asked, not hiding any bit of irritation from his voice. It was way too early.

Paz just knew Adrin was grinning behind his helmet. “Good morning to you too.” 

As excited as Adrin was even at this goddamn hour, Paz wasn’t much of a morning person and didn’t share the enthusiasm, so he merely grumbled ‘morning’ of his own and waited for Adrin to get to the point of his early visit. 

Knowing Paz and his impatience when it came to his fellow Mandalorians, Adrin did just that. “Ola sent me, we’re neighbors in this covert, if you didn’t know. She asked for you specifically.”

Paz did not know who were Adrin’s new neighbors, he barely knew where half of the Tribe had rooms now in this big ass facility. “For what?” Paz and Ola were more or less just acquaintances. She often helped out in the kitchens and cooked for the foundlings so they knew of each other.

“Babysitting duty.”

This woke Paz more, his back straightening slightly. “That so? Which rascal is it this time?”

“Mina, she caught a cold but—”

“Franc is out on a job, yeah, I know.”

Adrin nodded at the mention of Mina’s _buir_. “Ola is with the other foundlings today so she asked for you, Mina and all her stuff and toys are in the infirmary.”

“What about the hanger bay, thought, I was supposed to help out there.”

Adrin waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of that for you. This is more important right now.”

“Yeah,” Paz agreed. Adrin left soon after, giving him his space to prepare for the day. Even if he was on the babysitting duty for who knew how long, Paz got his full armor on. He went easy on the weapons, but the armor was on. One never knew when the covert would be targeted again by Imps or whoever else. 

When Paz got into the infirmary, he nodded at the medic in greeting. 

“Here, her stuff.” The medic thrust a huge bag into his hands, not even stopping to say a proper hello. “Don’t let her near other foundlings, we don’t want this spreading. Now go.”

Under his helmet, Paz cocked a brow at the quick dismissal, but then he noticed that on a bed further down from where he could already see Mina, was another Mandalorian, clutching something to their leg. The material looked like it could be a cape, the kind Djarin wore too. Paz also noticed the steady drip of blood and then swiftly understood the medic’s lack of pleasantries, not that she was much of a formal person who relished such things. 

Paz let her do her thing and pulled the heavy bag across his shoulder and to his back before bending down to scoop up the sleeping child. Mina must have been full of medicine to be sleeping so soundly. 

Since Mina couldn’t be near other foundlings, Paz brought her back to his quarters and let her sleep on his bed. He pulled his gloves away and checked her forehead, she was still burning up but Paz was sure the medic had already given her medicine for that. 

For now, the child was asleep and Paz had nothing better to do. He wouldn’t leave her by herself so the confines of his room it was. However, there wasn’t much to do there. 

Paz got in some light workout, keeping his eyes on the kid. Almost an hour later, his datapad beeped and he found a message from the medic. She told him what medicine Mina already got and what to get her and when. Paz found that the bottles were in the bag already.

Later he took the kid and when he made sure there was nobody in the kitchen, he got Mina and himself some food and hurried back to his room. It was best for Mina to stay inside the warmth and for others not to meet her so they wouldn’t get sick too. 

It was pretty much an easy day for Paz, all of this coming to him like second nature. Mina was still a baby, she couldn’t even talk or walk yet, not that she had much energy right now. 

Paz was lucky that Mina had been brought into the covert awfully young, which meant she was already used to seeing the helmets and full armor and didn’t cry at the sight of his masked face. It made his job so much easier.

When he played with her and she cooed happily at him, Paz’s heart was melting. She was adorable. He had missed taking care of a child, it had been too long since he had his own foundling to raise. He used to help with his siblings, but that was long ago too. 

Paz really missed this. Everything was so easy, so straightforward. There was only so much a baby could do or want. They were all so same at this age too. It was only later when they got wilder. 

He chuckled to himself, wondering what kind of person this little one would grow up to be. On a more morose note, he hoped he would be there to see it, that he would be alive and she too. Life of a Mandalorian came with many dangers after all. 

Paz let Mina nimble on his finger, she still had no teeth so it was hardly painful, but it seemed to help her to sleep. With his free hand he typed out some replies in the forum. With the worried parents’ questions and the baby next to him, it was so easy to go down the memory lane, think of all the little ones he had helped in his life. There were many bitter and painful memories but there were also the heart-warming ones, and he tried to focus on those. 

Taking care of Mina was really more like a vacation than work for Paz. The others were out there hefting heavy boxes in the hangar bay, and Paz was here playing a chewing toy for the child. 

It had been nearly three days since Paz started taking care of Mina. Adrin even brought him a cradle for Mina to sleep in, courtesy of Ola. That was very thoughtful of her, Paz didn’t really have cradles scattered around his room. 

Mina’s fever had broken after the second day and she was doing much better now. Paz was getting a light headache but he blamed it on lack of sleep. He didn’t let himself sleep much when he still had to watch the sick child and get her her medicine. 

Before the third day ended, Franc had returned from his mission. He was uninjured and rested enough to go back to taking care of his _adi’ka_ and with that, Paz’s babysitting duty was over. 

Franc had thanked him numerous times, Paz just brushing it off with a nod and a quick ‘no problem’. He really didn’t mind. Maybe if he had been born with a smaller built, Paz would have been assigned to taking care of the foundlings in the covert just like Ola and some others did. He had the natural talent and predisposition, the kids always seemed to get used to him quickly and like him quickly too, but as things were, Paz was always helping out with construction and other stuff where hard labor was concerned. 

He didn’t tell Franc that he wouldn’t mind taking care of Mina for longer. He and Franc were definitely not close enough for Paz to admit that out loud.

By the time Franc got all Mina’s things and Paz brought him up to speed on how she had been doing in his care, it was too late to go do anything else in the covert. His head was hurting too so Paz decided to call it a night. He would get some much needed sleep. While taking care of babies was simple, it did come with a price.

When Paz woke with a start to the sound of his alarm, he found that he couldn’t find the strength to move his arm to stop it. His joints were aching, his muscles too. His headache had increased tenfold and he was shivering despite the thick blanket over his body. 

Paz knew this could only be one thing, but how the hell it happened, he had no idea. 

Seemed like he was making another trip to infirmary just a few days later. 

At this point Paz was visiting the infirmary more than he went outside the covert. That was a bit concerning. 

With all the strength he could muster, forgoing the armor for once, Paz got himself somehow together and into the infirmary. 

The infirmary was quiet today, like it was on most days. The bright lights hurt his head and made his vision spin but Paz managed to get himself to the medic’s office without needing to support himself on the beds or the walls. 

The medic looked up, her helmet rising, but freezing when she spotted Paz. He was pretty easy to recognize even with only a helmet and no further armor. Nobody was quite as big as he was in their covert. 

She was not amused to see him. “Another question about a mysterious kid? What is it gonna be this time, stomachache?”

“Not this time,” Paz said, his voice coming out hoarse. 

“Oh, so you’re the patient today.” The medic said with genuine surprise and was quickly on her feet, coming around the table. “Get your ass on the bed there.”

Paz walked to where she pointed wordlessly, very happy to finally be sitting down. 

“So what’s the problem?” 

He didn’t feel like talking much but it was what he had to do. He told her of his sore throat, headaches, running fever and the aches all over his body. The medic did some quick scans to determine his exact temperature and to see what else what wrong. 

“You caught a cold. From Mina, it seems.”

Paz grumbled something under his breath, not exactly happy with the fact he was sick. It hadn’t been that long that he was healing from the attack on their covert on Nevarro.

He wondered how he got sick, he had been washing his hands regularly, making sure to limit his exposure to Mina’s germs, but he did play with her a lot. That was probably his undoing. Paz groaned. He should have known better. He did know better, but it had been so long and Mina’s joyous laughs when he tickled her were so cute…

Paz had nobody to blame but himself.

“Your temperature is quite high, I’m surprised you managed to get here by yourself. You must feel like hell.”

“I do.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Paz,” the medic said with a light chuckle, before going to retrieve something. She quickly hooked his arm to an IV. “You need some fluids in you, this will help.”

“So what, bed rest today?” he croaked, his throat hurt like a bitch, and he should stop talking, but he wasn’t about to.

“Not just today. This will help, but you still need to rest. No work for you for a few more days.”

Seeing the shift in Paz’s posture, she recognized that he was going to protest. “No work, you hear? You could get others sick too. The helmets aren’t a total precaution.” She looked into her datapad. “It looks like you had it much worse than Mina. But then again her immune system is far superior to ours.”

Paz hadn’t thought of that. Mina did look like the most of them, but she wasn’t of the same species. There were slight changes in her body, her immune system one of those. 

“Sorry, I should’ve taken that into consideration.”

Paz only shrugged a shoulder, which turned out to be more tiring than he would have thought. “Nah, this one’s on me.”

“Well, either way, you’ll be staying here for a few hours and then your bed, ideally.”

“Ye—” knowing he could hardly stand, Paz was going to agree, but his voice gave out. 

The medic got him some medicine for that, averting her gaze when he pulled his helmet slightly up to put the pills in his mouth. He didn’t know what it was, but his throat felt better almost instantly.

Before the medic could go back to her office, Paz thought of something. “Around a week ago, did Djarin come here?” 

“He did,” she said a bit hesitantly, “why are you asking?”

Paz shrugged again. “I met him in the hall outside, he was cranky as hell but didn’t seem injured.”

“He didn’t come for himself, it was the kid.”

This made Paz shot up to sit, his head swimming. He regretted the decision quickly. The medic herself immediately had a hand over his chest, pushing him back down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you over-sized baby? The kid is fine, calm your horses, seriously…”

Paz groaned but he wasn’t done with questions. His throat would have been glad if he was. 

“What happened to the _adi’ka_?”

The medic rolled her eyes. Oddly, Paz just knew she did. “It was nothing too serious, the kid is alright.”

“Djarin hasn’t taken care of a foundling before, tell me, did he—”

“It wasn’t his fault. He—” she laughed, “He was so… I don’t think I have ever seen him so out of it, and all that for the kid. The kid was asleep through it all, Din wouldn’t leave his side even if he himself was ready to drop. I had to kick him out of here and then he came back not even an hour after.”

Paz didn’t know quite what to say to that.

If what she had said was true, then Din Djarin was more of a _buir_ than Paz had imagined him to. Refusing to leave the kid’s side when the kids was sick… Paz could understand that. Any parent could understand that. 

Paz imagined Djarin getting all fired up, righteous anger and determination fixed on getting the little one the help and treatment he needed. All that passion for something that was not hatred and dislike for Paz. The thought of that made Paz all warm inside. It must have been the fever affecting his mind. Otherwise, Paz would never admit to finding Din Djarin hot, in any circumstance.

He had nearly forgotten the medic was still there.

“You know, I think the two of you are more alike than either of you thinks. You really need to stop your weird rivalry.” She shook her head and left him to rest.

This side of Djarin, it was something new to Paz, something he had never seen in him. The medic’s last words rang in his head. He knew their antagonism was without any real reason behind it. It was just one of those things that had always been there. But maybe it didn’t have to be.

Despite his head throbbing with the sickness, Paz kept rethinking their relationship and if it could ever be fixed. 

It could, he concluded, but that would take a lot of effort. Paz vowed himself that he would at least try. He could play nice. Keep the snark contained, his temper too. He could at least attempt it once. And if that failed, well, then that would be his answer, but first he had to try. 

After he got his fluids and assured the medic that he could get back to his room just fine, Paz went back. He was thankful that the medic had texted Adrin to relieve him of work once again. 

Paz collapsed into bed soon after, only mustering enough strength to get his helmet off. When he woke up, it was to his stomach rumbling and middle of the night. 

He contemplated just not eating, he didn’t have much appetite to begin with, but he knew that was just the cold talking. He didn’t feel much better after the nap, but he got himself out of the bed, helmet on and to the door, with the help of the wall. Paz was alone here, he was done pretending standing upright wasn’t a nearly impossible deed right now. 

The sight under his door nearly made him weep. There was platter with a few covered dishes and a note on the top. It was from Franc. Said he had heard from Adrin that Paz caught a cold from Mina when he had been babysitting her and so he wanted to return the favor somehow.

Paz didn’t know Franc well, but right now, he decided that he really liked this guy.

The food was cold now, but he was still grateful as he ate most of it. When he returned to bed, belly full, Paz found that he couldn’t sleep any more. He had been out cold for hours.

He took his datapad in hand, lowered the brightness as much as was possible and typed a quick message to Adrin to let him know he would not be able to come help out in the hangar bay, or anywhere else for that matter, for the next four or so days. He hoped that would be enough for the cold to pass.

Despite knowing staring at the screen was not good for his headache right now, Paz was also bored. Being bored during a day was one thing but being bored in the middle of the night and when he could barely move was another thing entirely. 

So the datapad it was. 

Paz found himself typing the name of the forum to the tab before his mind even registered it. He rarely used the holonet for much else. It was all muscle memory now as he typed in the name. 

There were new posts, sure. Just because it was the night for Paz didn’t mean it was the night for everybody else too. 

Another thing that came as an instinct now was searching for any posts from User286282. There were none. That was probably a good thing. Paz imagined the parent was being overly cautious now after the whole fiasco with the spotchka. 

Just for the sake of it, Paz clicked on the user’s profile to see if it was still as blank as before. It was.

Paz wondered if he should think of them as User286282 or as the anonymous parent. It was pretty much the same, with nothing on their profile. If they had at least changed their username… Paz knew their numbers by heart now, form how often he thought about them and their stupidly empty profile.

Because what was up with that? Not even a single line? Absolutely nothing? 

It made him go crazy. Just what was the reason for their utter secrecy… 

Paz then started scrolling through the forum, rereading all the anonymous posts the parent had made and the one they made as a registered user. Paz did his best analyzing the words, finding the little tidbits the person let slip. But they were good, if secrecy was their goal. There wasn’t much. 

Paz had never quite imagined using his training in collecting data and assessing a situation for the purpose of finding out more about some anonymous parent on a parenting help forum. 

But collect data he did, rereading the posts and replies until his head hurt and he couldn’t keep his eyes on the screen. He still wasn’t sleepy enough but he could no longer read.

He went over what he had learned in his head. 

There was nothing about the parent. Everything they mentioned was solely about the kid and that wasn’t much either. Paz noted how they kept saying ‘the kid’ at first which then turned in later posts into ‘my kid’. That made Paz think more than anything that this was a new parent, or somebody who adopted the child one way or another.

It didn’t seem like the person was a real biological parent. They simply didn’t know things about the kid. While else would they always not mention the details? Saying all they knew was for the kid’s benefit and they seemed to care about the child, so why else wouldn’t they?

It reminded him a bit of their foundlings. 

If they weren’t a biological parent, then that could also mean they were taking care of the kid by themself. That too would explain how easily panicked they were. They probably didn’t have anyone else to turn to for advice with the kid. This theory saddened Paz a bit, granted, he didn’t know if that was true or not, but still. 

Kriff, his talents were being so wasted, Paz thought as the theories of the parent swam in his head. Really, analyzing them like this and for what?

Paz had told himself, quite firmly, that he was not going to message that anonymous parent. But the thought that maybe they were alone somewhere in the vast galaxy, with just the kid at their side, doing their best but that not always being good enough, made Paz rethink his earlier decision.

He could try. He would try. The parent might never answer but so what. 

It wasn’t long after that that Paz finally dozed off again. His feverish mind jumbled all his day’s thoughts together, making him dream of Djarin and messaging the stranger. Somehow, his brain muddled it all into one, his dream turning into Djarin being the one he was sending parenting advice too.

When he woke up, Paz remembered some of the dream, dismissing it as nothing but a ridiculous fever induced images. There was no way the other person was another Mandalorian. No way they were somebody he personally knew and mutually disliked. No way was it Din Djarin. 

Few minutes into wakefulness, Paz had forgotten all about his dream.


End file.
